Rubbing her aching eyes with the heels of her hands, paying no attention to the possibility of ruining the hastily applied eye makeup, Buffy arched her back and let out a very audible yawn. Glancing at the clock, she realized there was still half an hour before the next appointment was scheduled to arrive, time was moving slow now and her nerves were quickly unraveling as the seconds ticked by. The office was eerily quiet despite the hoards of parents and students bustling about in the hallway, thanks in part to the heavy door that she had insisted be closed when the last set of parents and disgruntled child had left. Leaning back in the swivel chair, she closed her eyes and sighed, mostly from exhaustion, but with a nice mix of frustration thrown in.
As soon as Spike’s rental car disappeared out of the parking lot, the lingering reservations about their relationship, or whatever one may call it, had quickly reared its ugly head and caused an intense throbbing just behind her right eye. Thankfully, the constant parade of visitors traipsing past the open door had distracted her worried mind and allowed her to focus on the task at hand. Now, however, as she mindlessly rocked in the chair and stared at the water stained ceiling, those nasty fears were crawling back into the limelight in her brain and bringing back the treacherous headache. Groaning loudly with a stressful combination of frustration and exhaustion, Buffy leaned forward and laid her forehead on the desk; lightly banging against it as if doing so would solve all her problems. Of course, it was that exact moment that her boss decided to pop in.
“You know, I’m pretty sure we provided you with a stapler?” Principal Wood asked good-naturedly as he casually leaned against the door frame; causing Buffy’s head to skyrocket off the desk in surprise. Chuckling at Buffy’s confused look, complete with a yellow post-it note stuck to her forehead, he walked into the room and took a seat in one of the chairs near her desk. “I was referring to the banging of your head against the desk, sorry, bad joke. Rough night?”
“More like an entire day of roughness.” Buffy retorted with a disgusted snort. Crinkling her brow in annoyance, she pulled off the sticky note and threw it into the trash. She could only hope that the ink on it hadn’t rubbed off on her skin, thus making the rest of the meetings painfully embarrassing.
“Feel like sharing, or do you have someone coming in soon?” Robin asked, his warm brown eyes quickly fading from amusement to caring. While he had been her boss for four years, he had been a close friend to Buffy for several years before that.
“No, I’ve got a little while, but honestly…I don’t even know if I can talk about it.” Torn between confessing her secret and remaining tight lipped until Spike said it was all right to talk about it; she’d hate to spill the beans and have their affair plastered over every tabloid by morning. Not that she thought Robin would do that, but you never know when there’s a lurker around; especially after the close call with the female population of the school that afternoon. “Let’s just say that I had a pretty…interesting weekend and had a helluva bombshell dropped on me around lunch. I’m just suffering from some adjustment issues…along with disbelief and insecurity and a little bit of good old fashioned lust.”
Sighing, Buffy once again leaned back in her seat, nervously chewed her bottom lip and promptly changed the subject. “So, how’s Faith doing?” She asked, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to resist chatting about his pregnant wife and the latest addition to the Wood household.
“She’s great; glowing and beautiful….or if you ask her, fat, bloated, ugly and miserable.” He chuckled, his face instantly illuminated with happiness at the thought of his wife. Faith, former rebel and known trollop of Sunnydale High back in the day, had been instantly attracted to the newly instated principal eight years ago when Robin had stepped in to take over the position when the late Mr. Snyder died on graduation day. While the attraction had been mutual, it had taken a very determined Faith many months to convince Robin to take her out on a date. Why did it take that long? Well, it turned out that Mr. Wood was worried about his position in the community and what the School Board would think about him, a thirty-three year old, newly hired principal, dating an eighteen year old recent graduate.
Luckily for Faith and for Buffy, since she no longer had to listen to her friend bitch about Robin’s resistance to her pursuits, he gave in after nearly a year. Now, eight years later they were married and the proud parents of the beautiful Nicole, a very rambunctious four year old with skin the color of warm caramel and luscious chocolate colored locks that flew around her head in a mass of springy ringlets. They were also expecting the arrival of the newest addition of their family, predicted to be a little boy this time, which was scheduled to arrive in two months.
“And since that was an obvious attempt to distract me from my earlier questions,” Robin commented, smoothly turning the conversation back to Buffy, despite her attempts to steer him in another direction. “I’m going to let you off the hook for now, because your next set of worried parents should be here soon. But, I expect you to at least call Faith and talk to her…better yet, come to dinner tomorrow night.” Fully expecting Buffy to argue with him, as usual, he went ahead and said, “It’ll thrill Faith, she’s been moodier than normal with the bed rest sentence.”
“I…um…kinda have a house guest right now and I’m not sure if he would want to or not.” Buffy’s nose crinkled with distaste when she realized the slippage of her visitor’s gender, knowing full well by the smirk on Robin’s face that there was no way in Hell that she could get out of dinner now. Nope, if she didn’t give in and accept the invitation now she could most certainly expect numerous phone calls from Faith, pestering her until she agreed…and brought the mystery guest. “Fine! Ok, just fine. Yes, I’ve got a guy staying with me and yes, we’ll come for dinner. Does six-ish sound good?”
Thirty minutes later, Buffy had just finished up with a surprisingly nice meeting and was straightening up when Willow popped her head in. “Hey Wills, you done for the night or is there more parent-teacher nightmare-a-thon left for you?”
“Nope, all finished.” She stated happily, holding up her brown leather satchel to show she was ready to go home. “Saw Spike drop you off earlier, is he coming back to get you? ‘Cause, there’s a mob outside…it’s like the parents decided to go ahead with the chastising of their children in the parking lot instead of waiting until they got home.”
“Nah, I told him I wanted to walk. Need some time to myself, think things out and stuff. My brain’s been on hyper-drive all day, it needs a breather and soon.” Picking up her bag that was very similar to Willow’s, Buffy ushered the redhead out the door and locked up for the night.
“Well, if you’re free you wanna go grab something to eat? Or, even better, some fancy- schmancy coffee in the mocha variety?”
“You are so speaking my language. Lead the way!” Buffy chuckled, smiling brightly as she dutifully followed Willow out of the building.
After a short drive to the Espresso Pump, followed by an absurd amount of time in line, they were tucked away in a booth and happily slurping on white chocolate mochas, topped with fluffy clouds of whipped cream. Sitting there, completely oblivious, lost in caffeine induced bliss, Buffy was completely blind sighted by the blunt and rather sudden perverse side of Willow.
“So, didya get groiny, yet?” Willow asked matter-of-factly while slurping the creamy topping off the tasty treat; her face the picture of innocence. At Buffy’s shocked expression, she waggled her eyebrows suggestively and remarked, “What? Like I didn’t notice the steaminess in your office?”
Cheeks instantly a flame with embarrassment, Buffy focused intently on shredding a cocktail napkin to tiny bits and murmured, “No, we so did not get groiny…well, much anyway.” Finally lifting her face, she continued, “Not that we wouldn’t have, but between Riley’s unexpected visit and the meeting tonight, you could say we got distracted.” Making a sour expression, she hastily added, “Oh, and don’t forget my stupid brain. Had to go and be all over-thinky and whatnot.”
“So, Riley caught you and Spike making out? Huh, bet he loved that.”
“That’d be a big fat negative on the loving part. Nope, Riley was a little more than peeved, and Spike’s shirtless caveman act didn’t help matters.”
“Spike made with the possessiveness? Ooh, I think Mr. Hollywood’s got a little crush on someone.” Willow ducked as a rolled up piece of napkin flew past her head and landed in a potted plant. “Hey, it’s a good thing, right? You like him, he likes you…totally makes the fact that you guys are hitched easier.”
“Ugh, that’s the whole problem, Will!” Buffy groaned, pushing her coffee aside to cradle her head in her hands. “Who on earth gets married before they even date? It’s like my normal every day life is suddenly a freaking soap opera. What’s next? Are you going to get kidnapped? No, wait…Xander’s going to get hit on the head with a book and end up with amnesia?”
“Aw, Buff…I know this has got to be all sorts of weird for you, but maybe you and Spike are supposed to happen. Like fate?” Willow winced at Buffy’s disbelieving expression and said, “Ok, so you don’t believe in kismet and stuff, but how else would you explain it? You’re right, who goes to a convention, meets a big shot actor and gets hitched?” Pausing to take a long slurp of coffee, Willow’s face scrunched up while she pondered a thought. “What’d Spike say about it?”
“Oddly enough, he’s totally on board with the whole thing.” Buffy rolled her eyes and chewed the inside of her lip. “Seriously, can we actually be married? Not in the legal terms, causes duh…obviously already are, but like Mr. and Mrs.? I don’t know.”
“Well, maybe you guys could date or something?”
“Date? You think I can totally go back to my house, where my husband is waiting and propose that we date for a while?” Buffy scoffed disbelievingly, an “as if” expression was firmly in place. “Can we say ass backwards?”
“Yeah, I’d say you guys are going about the whole relationshippy thing in reverse, but you never know, it could work out. Why not give it a shot?”
“Give what a shot?” A deep voice interrupted from behind Buffy. Both girls turned around, worried who might have overheard their conversation and were equally relieved to find Xander waiting patiently for an answer. “Scoot over Will.” He motioned for her to move over and wiggled his way into the booth. “So what’d I miss?”
After the shortened version of Buffy’s day, Xander’s mouth flapped open and clothed like a shocked guppy as he looked back and forth between his two best friends. “You’re kidding, right? Pulling ol’ Xan-Man’s chain?” His shoulders slumped when he realized they weren’t joking, that Buffy had in fact married Spike Thorne. For the first time in well…ages, Xander Harris was speechless.
“Xander, say something! You’re scaring me.” Buffy piped up, only half joking with him because honestly, any time Xander didn’t have some witty or sarcastic comment, which was rare, it truly did worry her. Waving her hand in front of his handsome, yet still completely blank face, Buffy tried snapping her fingers, too. “Xander!”
“Huh? What?” Xander stuttered, finally coming out of the shock induced coma when Buffy flicked him in the nose. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he looked at Buffy and asked, “Where is he?”
“At home…I mean my home…because it’s not ours, right? Is it?”
“So, he’s there and you’re here. Hmm…guess that means you’re doing the usual Buffy-avoidy thing? Don’t give me that look, Buff.” Rolling his eyes at his friend’s typical oblivious behavior, Xander looked toward the more level-headed female in the group for support. “Back me up here, Wills.”
“Not the complete Avoid-O-Buffy routine, but pretty close. She has managed to break down and confess that she isn’t completely opposed to getting groiny with a certain hunky actor and does, in fact, think of him in a more relationshippy nature. Now, the only problem that remains is getting her to go tell him that.” Willow shrugged her shoulders and smiled brightly when Buffy stuck her tongue out; which was what she usually did when she knew someone was right and she didn’t like it. “You know I’m right, so why aren’t you out the door and halfway home by now? It’s only what…four blocks?”
Xander and Willow smiled in unison, the look of complete and total satisfaction, as Buffy started to say something, most likely to argue with them, but thought better of it and bolted out of the shop. “Job well done, Harris.”
“Yeah, but not as good as yours, Rosenberg.”
She ran home. All four and a half blocks, full sprint ahead…in pumps, nonetheless. Her feet were throbbing, her lungs burning, and chest heaving. But still, Buffy didn’t bother waiting to compose herself, other than the few seconds it took to scrounge around in her purse and pull out the door keys, before pushing her way inside the darkened house. For a moment, she was confused. Why was the lights out? And, was that a fire burning in the fireplace? Buffy didn’t have time to ponder the answers to her internal questions before her body was literally slammed against the door and Spike’s warm body was pressed against hers.
His lips covered hers, hungry in their assault, devouring her in every sense of the word as if he were starved and she was the only meal in sight. Her purse dropped to the floor, forgotten in the moment, her shirt was soon to follow as his hands pushed the offending material up her body so his hands could caress the warm skin beneath. Maneuvering her arms to assist in removing the garment, Buffy barely even registered the sound of ripping material as Spike literally tore the shirt off her body and tossed it to the floor. All she could think was…finally.
Finally their bodies were touching; shirtless torsos melded together, their hands roaming over the heated flesh, digging in to the softer parts as they pressed closer to one another, desperate for contact. There was no denying the fact that sexual attraction was a very big part of whatever they had together.
One moment Spike’s hands were kneading her breasts, his hot mouth had traveled southward to suckle a rosy pink nipple through the silken material of her bra, and then they were gone. He traveled further to yank the creamy dress pants from her trembling legs, struggling with removing them and cursing under his breath. When he finally got them off, along with her underwear, he stood back up, entwined her legs around his narrow waist and he muttered, a hotly toned growl against the soft skin of her neck, “No more bleeding pants. Ever.”
Nodding her agreement, her mind no longer able to form coherent words, Buffy tightened her grip on Spike as he pulled both their bodies away from the door and walked slowly to the living room and laid her gently on a blanket that was laid out in front of the burning fireplace. Smiling up at him, she asked, “Been a busy boy since I left, huh? Were you planning on seducing me or something?”
Spike glanced around, taking in the over abundance of glowing candles, the roaring fire, carefully arranged pillows and blanket and cringed. Had he gone too far? Looking back at Buffy, her naked body aglow from the surrounding flames, golden hair cascading around her shoulders, and gleaming eyes pooling with lust as she nibbled coyly on that succulent bottom lip, Spike realized she was toying with him. “Or something, pet.” With a saucy grin and his tongue curled seductively behind his lip, Spike shed the one and only piece of clothing from his body, tossing the pants onto the couch before crawling up Buffy’s body and settling between her thighs.
Buffy’s body twitched with anticipation as he stalked up her body like a panther on the prowl, like she was the prey and he was the seductively enticing predator. Settling back on the blanket, his body covered hers, heated flesh against heated flesh, both trembling with desire, aching with want. His lips covered hers for a brief second, a passing of soft skin before he took his attentions lower, pressing open mouthed kisses along her neck and chest, paying close attention to the peaked rosebuds before licking his way down her quivering belly. All of the sudden he stopped and she peeked down at him, startled to find him staring up at her, his eyes darkened a deep midnight blue and churning with passion. “What?” Buffy asked with a shaky voice; partially out of desire, but mostly out of nervousness.
“Jus’ wondering if there’s going to be any more interruptions tonight. You aren’t’ expecting any more surprise dates tonight, are you?” Spike chuckled at Buffy’s response, the nervous stuttering that there shouldn’t be anymore surprises tonight. “Good,” was his only response, his head ducking down and returned to his earlier ministrations. His tongue dipped into her belly button, eliciting a squeal of surprise before moving on to more interesting locations.
Spike was impatient, he could admit it. While he ached to taste her on his tongue again, bring her to completion, screaming his name and grasping his hair in ecstasy, more than anything, he wanted to bury himself deep within her body. To satisfy his palate, he allowed his tongue to dip between her folds, delve inside her heated core for the briefest of moments, and twirl around the sensitive bud of her clit just long enough to bring her body to a mass of twitching limbs and her words to breathless moans. Satisfied, he savored her juices on his tongue, felt his cock grow harder with need, and he prowled up her body, settling once again between those wonderful thighs. “Mmm…luv, you taste bloody delicious.”
He kissed her, long and hard, and she got to taste herself on his tongue and was surprised to find that it wasn't repulsive. In fact, there was something slightly erotic about the whole thing. His hardened length was pressed against her center, teasing her with its nearness to her pussy, as if he were taunting her mercilessly. Moaning into his mouth, Buffy arched her back, pressing herself against his body with need and longing, the overwhelming desire to be filled with his cock was driving her mad. Reaching between their sweaty bodies, she took matters into her own hands, literally, and took hold of him; wrapping her hand tightly around his shaft, pumping it slowly before guiding him inside her. He filled her slowly, almost agonizingly so, inch by inch, stretching her to completion, until her body was tight around his girth. She had never felt so full, or remembered the sensation anyway. Spike filled her completely; sparing no room, to an extent that would have been painful had it not been so deliciously pleasurable.
Spike stayed still, willing his body not to react prematurely to her tightness; their actions earlier in the day up until now had left his body sensitive, to say the least. “Bloody hell, pet…you’re so tight.” His breath came in pants, eyes shut as he slowly started to move. The slower the better, however, the sultry blonde beneath him had other ideas. Her nails bit into the soft skin of his ass as she urged him to move, whimpering tiny groans of frustration, her back arched, legs tightened and finally, he gave in. Slid in and out, almost slipping out of her body before slamming back in.
Buffy’s mind was swimming, her body on fire, legs trembling with desire and need, she thrust upwards and matched his movements; their bodies moved together, matching one another stroke for stroke, as if that’s exactly what they had been made for. The heat swirled in her core, building quickly as his body stoked the fires that had been ignited earlier that afternoon, which had been lying dormant until he had touched her again. Arching her back, her nails bit into his flesh, tore into him as though she were a wild animal and a scream ripped from her throat as the tiny sparks swirled into a raging flame.
Spike watched as Buffy tossed her head back in passion, riding out the waves of her orgasm as she bucked beneath his thrusting body, her luscious mouth open wide now in a silent scream of delight. He felt her nails rip through his back and knew that the wounds would hurt later, but for now they added the pain that he craved during pleasure. The tickling sensation of blood trickling down his back sent his body quaking, his own orgasm ripped through his body. Spike came hard, screaming his release with an animalistic roar.
They lay in a heap on the rumpled blanket, half wrapped in one another’s arms in a listless bundle of satisfaction. Only the sharp crackle of the fire could be heard as they lay in silence. Time slipped past and neither one cared. Finally, Spike rolled over and grabbed one of the spare blankets near their feet and pulled it over their naked bodies. Tucking in close to Buffy, Spike wrapped his arms around her and snuggled in tightly. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep he heard her mumbled something, but couldn’t quite make it out. “What was that, luv?”
“We should date.” She muttered, not bothering to open her eyes as she snuggled against him and rested her head on his chest.
They were married and the silly bird wanted to date? If that was what it would take to not only get her into his arms, but to keep her there, he would try it. Spike smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, kitten, we should date.”